


Hair

by supercalifragilistichespiralidoso



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalifragilistichespiralidoso/pseuds/supercalifragilistichespiralidoso
Summary: Padmé's not having it.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 150





	Hair

"So, a ponytail, uh. It means you're finally ready to make a move on Obi-Wan?" 

Padmé, Anakin had had time and means to perfect the analogy, reminded him of the seemingly harmless loth-cat he used to secretly feed remnants of his dinner many years ago and then one day decided to turn into a backstabbing traitor scratching his hand bloody. She too, from time to time, liked breaking the hard-earned sense of friendly solidarity between them by dropping a bomb, apparently, for the taste of it. Right now, glancing away from his reflection on her impeccable windows, he felt equally betrayed. 

Words failed him as he sent a panicked look in Threepio's direction - the protocol droid tended to unintentionally unveil things that meant to be left buried. Fortunately, he was merrily setting the table. 

"I'll take that as a no," she concluded a moment later, her rosy lips pursed in a resigned line. "Honestly, Ani, you can't expect him to figure it out from your questionable flirting techniques and alluring looks." 

Anakin, still recovering from the momentary speech regress, balked at- well, everything in that sentence was worthy of a rebuke, starting from the bluntness and concluding with the insult and the insinuation. 

"My flirting technique is not questionable," he attacked, arms crossed over his chest, feeling mildly offended, "and there are no alluring looks." 

Padmé, who was watching him with her eyebrow raised and a glass of white Corellian wine temporarily neglected in a pale hand, resembled the embodiment of scepticism. 

"I witnessed both," she simply said, giving Anakin  _ the look _ , the same look he'd seen her use a couple times against oppositors in Senate hearings and dared them to find a mistake in her discourse. 

Also, she remained utterly unperturbed, or decided not to even give him the courtesy of a response, when Anakin stated, albeit on the low side of volume and perhaps slightly unconvinced himself, that he hadn't been trying to flirt with her that one time on Naboo - a mere statement of facts was more the case. 

"And if there are no alluring looks," she resumed, stressing the  _ if _ with unnecessary emphasis, "then you're making it even more difficult for him." 

As Anakin tried hard not finding a twisted sliver of sense in her words, he wondered why the Force had to put on his path two of the most stubborn people ever existed in this wretched galaxy when he had so many problems to begin with. But, he supposed, a part of the blame collapsed on his reckless shoulders the moment he had befriended one and fell madly in love with the other. 

"You're insane," he commented, shaking his head and looking away because the sight of Padmé's smug smirk over the rim of the glass was making him nervous. 

"You mean to say that Obi-Wan expressing his appreciation for this particular hairstyle," she waved the free hand in the general direction of Anakin's head, "just this morning, I might add, so bonus points for subtlety, has not influenced your choice?" 

Robust as his ego might have grown over the years, Anakin Skywalker, contrary to what some were determined to believe, was humble enough to recognise when he had been backed into a corner; this, though, did not mean he easily conceded ground. 

"It's called wanting a clear vision, it was starting to get in the way." 

Unfortunately, the attempt sounded lame to his own ears, which only made it extremely easier for Padmé to see right through it. 

"Cut it, then," she said, so naturally direct that Anakin felt ashamed of his tentative a second time in close succession with the first and asked himself why he was even trying - no matter how long he managed to fight back, he rarely emerged triumphant from a verbal sparring match with her. Or Obi-Wan. 

_ Stubborn and smart as hell, I surely know how to pick 'em,  _ he was thinking when Padmé charged ahead again without even granting him the physical time to formulate an answer in his head. 

"But no, you don't cut it because that's how Obi-Wan likes it." 

Anakin scoffed, feeling his cheeks starting to prickle. "Not everything I do is in relation to Obi-Wan." 

At this point, Padmé abandoned the glass of wine on the nearby coffee table, straightened her back and levelled the  _ second look _ at Anakin, the one that generally meant that she'd gladly accept the challenge. "I remember as if it was yesterday when you barged into my office and announced that you were letting your hair grow like him and-"

"Of course I was growing my hair out. That cut was ridiculous!" he interrupted, but again Padmé did not consider useful his intervention. 

"- and you pointed out  _ three times _ how Obi-Wan thought long hair might suit you. You were ecsta-"

The doorbell finally stopped her. And it was pathetic that way Anakin, instead, stopped his breathing. 

They both turned to look towards the door. 

Had they raised their voice? No, Anakin was almost sure of that, but they were getting rapidly more invested in proving their contrasting positions, so a change in volume wasn't to be excluded. 

He must have showed something akin to panic on his face because Padmé got up and, with the background sound of Threepio jerkily reaching the entryway to bring in the only other guest, whispered in a manner that frighteningly disagreed with what he suspected she would say next, "relax, there's no way he heard us. And, anyway, he's only a tad less clueless than you, I wouldn't worry." 

Deliberately choosing to ignore her provocation, Anakin decided to focus instead on how dramatic he was for thinking that Force was asking his body if it preferred to lose another limb or have a couple of organs shutting down, but then Obi-Wan entered, eyes falling on Anakin before anything and anyone else, and suddenly it didn't matter anymore whether it was his liver or toes exploding first, no - he wanted to be dead. 

"Anakin, you tied up your hair," Obi-Wan said, looking at him so intently, lingering on the neck and the contours of his face, that Anakin feared the worst all the long five seconds it took Obi-Wan's lips to curve in an unmistakably pleased smile. "It looks good on you." 

Anakin's stupid heart skipped a beat as he smiled back, not trusting himself to speak. 

Sometime later, from a million miles away he heard Padmé's voice say, "Threepio, can you please turn off the heating? Master Ani seems a bit too red in the face."    
  


**Author's Note:**

> The title is making my skin itch so if anyone has a better a idea, please I'm all ears!


End file.
